01/04/2020

Music echoes from the empty halls of my mind,
sounds populating the meditative temple
if the people on the streets were real
why would death lead us
towards the golden lights again
the void that fills the soul
is filled with laughing crowds
sauntering the roads of endless thoughts
into the warm oil light
homely radiant electricity
we wander like moths into the fire
fire of grey days
isolated, physically, banned from the world,
and the mind holding onto the illusion of company
electric bleeps is all we have
dancing by candlelight when I close my eyes
in the glowing radiant night
with the stars smiling upon us
glowing with the million fires of the night
unknown season has arrived
no end in sight
no way to release our
screaming souls
shouting madness skywards with all the epiphanies of the potted brain
shouting into the madness
for the wise one to discern
and to connect his soul with our soul to have one single soul fully at your disposal
when the day resurfaces
where will the dreary masses go
must they die for the day
do they travel after the moon's dark full voice
calling for you
for the tender love of your fingertips,
because the end is near
the end is near
and our souls will perish,
so we must wail and scream, sound our barbaric desperation into the world
for all the lonely souls to hear
who are dragging themselves through
the mud of the good people
through the empty streets dirty with human fear
through the clear river
looking for the freedom and salvation of the soul.